Extraction
by DJ Dubois
Summary: Several months after Cap's disappearance, Peggy is still consuming herself in her work to deal with Steve's disappearance. Yet a welcome Christmas message comes to her. Will it pick up her spirits? R and R!
1. Mandatory Night Out

Extraction

DJ Dubois

August 2013

Notes: The characters from "Captain America" and the Marvelverse belong to Marvel Comics, Marvel Studios and Paramount. All other characters are mine and fictitious. Please send comments to dante0220 .

Chapter 1 [Several Months following Cap's Disappearance]

Despite the war dragging into its fourth year across Europe and the Pacific, London turned its attention to the holiday season. Plans for parties and feasts were made. Mistletoe remained stashed for the magic moments at hand. Gifts bought and made ready for pick up by St. Nick himself.

As with most years, some families would celebrate their loved ones' safe returns or continued safety on the front. Those groups had already put their cards in the mail so as to reach the soldiers in time.

Others, however, had their holidays dampened by their loved ones' respective sacrifices. While they respected and treasured their memory, those families missed their special soldiers. Those people would be the ones who ventured out to the cemeteries to lay flowers at the stones in question. Then they'd head for church to pray for their souls.

And so it went…..

[Allied Command—December 20, 1943]

Amidst the frenetic pace in the Allies' British HQ, Agent Peggy Carter studied intel from Poland and the Normandy coast for any sign of Nazi weaknesses in that regard. She'd worked herself into a zombie…hardly ever stopping for meals or to sleep….

…all the better to end this damned war…to honor her Captain….

She frowned not seeing any new creases in the German juggernaut. She appreciated of course what the Howling Commandos had done in Italy and even southern Austria. Still she could barely bear to take a break.

In a flash, she'd sometimes see him charging into the fray fearless and carving a vicious swath into the Nazi advance….

She felt his lips on hers just before he leapt onto the landing struts of the Skull's Valkyrie craft.

She watched him disappearing into the Alpine clouds just as he watched her and Colonel Phillips careen to a halt barely micrometers from the landing strip's edge; the tires of the Skull's rocket car resting right against the precipice.

Despite the sacrifice involved, they both had Duty.

Now they were parted….

_Steve, I know I'm being a ninny. I miss you! _She sighed and rubbed her forehead. She wouldn't cry there. Maybe back in her barracks after the door was closed but not there….She had an image to uphold after all….

"Hey, Agent Carter, that's enough."

She sprang from her seat and stood at attention instinctively to greet the officer in question. "Colonel Phillips, nothing new unfortunately."

Despite his usual gruff attitude, Phillips knew how hard she'd been working…and _why. _Hell he and half of the Free World still missed Captain Rogers. Still he knew she did need a break once in a while. "At ease, Carter. You're doing okay. Rogers would agree."

She almost retorted but knew that 'okay' was his way of commending her. "Thank you, Sir. Perhaps we might find something for the Commandos?"

"We are. Dugan and the others are back for a couple of days. Maybe you might join them?" he suggested.

She rolled her eyes knowing the commiseration fest she'd face. "Colonel, I'm flattered but…."

He locked eyes with her pointedly. "Do I have to make it an order? They're waiting at the Cask and Ale down the street."

She sighed. "Dum Dum insisted?"

"He did. Others are hurting too, Carter. We know you loved him. Dismissed!" he pointed out before turning and walking away.

She slumped her shoulders. She really didn't want to leave her work…

…more importantly she didn't want the ghosts and memories to show up again….

_Colonel, you owe me. _She folded up the reports and locked them away in her desk's secured drawer. Then she grabbed her coat and headed for the blustery late fall evening outside….

[Cask and Ale—Twenty minutes later]

After a brisk walk from HQ down Kensington St., Peggy entered the century-old pub and looked around. She could almost feel the ghosts of East Ender dock workers, Irish factory workers and various other residents of the far flung Empire. Her noses picked up on the aroma of corned beef, kidney pie and shepherd's pie imbedded in the woodwork.

Around her, several GIs celebrated well deserved shore leave from the front. They toasted with their steins, drank hearty gulps of frothing ale and told humorous stories. They washed their war weariness away with healthy celebration and the thought of a great Christmas with their families….

…Things that made Peggy's heart sink farther. As an orphan, she had no place to go for the holiday….

Still she wouldn't let these bruisers see her sadness. She kept a stiff upper lip and made herself look forward. With that set manner, she pressed on through the throng in search of her friends. _I can give them a drink and an hour. They deserve that much. _

Just then a blonde strapping American GI stepped into her path. "Hey, Beautiful! You look like you could use a cold one. I feel like I've been waiting for my entire life for you."

She rolled her eyes. "No thank you." She eyed his sleeve. "_Corporal_."

"Come on! One beer!" he pressed while giving her a gentle push toward the bar.

She arched a not so amused eyebrow. "I said _no thank you_. Now step aside before I have you put on report."

"Like you'd do that, _Babe_." He grabbed her arm.

She shoved him hard into the bar before planting his face into the counter therein. "Catch up with _that_, _Corporal_. See you at HQ." She shook her head while heading off in a huff toward the table. "_Americans! Really! _Makes me wonder how the Captain had such great manners."

"Not all of us are jackasses, Agent Carter," Dum Dum interjected with a bit of wry amusement. "Looks like you were having fun out there." He put a cigar in his mouth and lit it.

"A gentleman wouldn't let something happen like that." She slid into the booth where he, Fresno, Howard and Dino Martinelli awaited her. On the table, a pitcher of frothy amber ale and a platter containing fried cod and freshly fried chips awaited her.

"You had it under control," Fresno replied while taking a big sip from his glass. "Always love watching you be one of the boys, Agent Carter."

Recalling how she had to take down the bully at Camp Randall a year earlier, Peggy managed a smile for the Commandos. She did tire of people looking down to her because she was a woman….

…at least these guys accepted her as a _peer_.

"Duly noted. My thanks for having these ready. That was very considerate," she expressed while squeezing a fresh lemon over the fish. She broke off a corner and sampled its flaky goodness. "That hits the spot."

"Thought you'd like that. Mike knew what you'd want. Glad Phillips gave you the message," Dum Dum assessed. "He ranted about being a messenger boy."

"He does that. He wants me with a clear head and some perspective. I can deal with a night away from the reports to get perspective. After that, my duty is clear," she guessed.

The Commandos nodded. They sure as Hell appreciated her analysis of enemy troop movements. Her insight and Stark's devices deepened the gashes into their adversaries' flank to say the least.

However she was human….

"We're all getting together for the holidays at the barracks," Fresno noted while getting a nod from Dum Dum. "We're all far from home. Maybe you'd like to join us?"

"It'd be more fun for us if we knew you weren't alone or working," Howard insisted.

"All for one and one for all," Dino chimed in.

"We all miss Rogers, Carter. Let's toast him at Christmas. What do you say?" Dum Dum offered.

She took a deep breath and nodded. _Captain, you certainly inspire friends! _"I accept, Gentlemen. My thanks!" Despite her somber mood, she poured some ale into her own frosted mug and saluted. "To the Captain!"

"To the Captain!" the guys chorused as they clinked glasses. Then they drank from their mugs.

_You won't be forgotten at Christmas, Steve. That I promise you! _Peggy went back to her fish and chips with purpose.

Maybe her heart was heavy but being around friends sure helped….


	2. Cap's Dreamscape

Chapter 2 [Arctic Crash Site]

A thousand miles to the north, bitter wind billowed across the endless ice flows. Freshly fallen snow skittered across those surfaces. The faraway stars glittered in their dark backdrop but remained too far away to heat this barren place.

For life itself, it would be a tomb…

And for one person at least, it seemed to be such….

The Valkyrie command ship still lay broken across the icy plain. The impact had crumpled the wings and struts. The chill, despite Hydra's constructive genius, had wormed its way into the command deck.

Off to the side, Cap lay comatose. An icy film had formed around him. His breathing had slowed to an almost stillness. His heart rate followed that. If not for the Super Soldier serum, he'd be dead….

His body had other ideas however. As fast as frostbite would form, his skin would regenerate itself. His metabolism remained in a state of hibernation to contain hunger and pain. The cuts and bruises from his fight with the Red Skull had already healed. The quest for survival was underway.

His mind fought to remain sane staying in a dreaming state. And so it was….

[Cap's Dreamscape]

"Hey, Steve, you going to work on this or what?" a familiar voice bade. "Come on!"

Steve opened his eyes and looked around in surprise. Instead of being onboard the crashed ship, he found himself in a market store. His shoes almost glided over the varnished floors. He could see rows of canned and bottled goods. His nose picked up on the delightfully familiar smells of freshly cut prosciutto and salami. The eaves were a familiar brown above his head.

He grinned. He never tired of Emilia's Market. The war was done and behind him. He was home.

An elderly portly Italian man tapped him on the shoulder. "Steve? You okay? Don't make me call _su signora _again."

"Sorry, _Signor Stallone_. My mind was off fighting the war again," Steve apologized before assessing his situation. "Makes you realize how lucky we are."

"Ah _si_! That we are! That we are!" Stallone concurred with a hearty belly laugh. As with the neighbors, he'd worried that Steve's war experiences had left him scarred. He had seen the younger man struggle to adjust back to Brooklyn following his return from France. However they all found that a gentle nudge was enough to put him back on track. "But the neighbors, they are going to brain us if we don't have that sausage for their sauce, no? Maybe you might stuff some more links for me?"

"Sure. I'll get right to it," Steve apologized before hustling toward the back room. While he really didn't care for the feel of the pork, he could get through the task the quickest of the employees there. He removed the bowl of ground pork from that morning from the icebox.

Sure enough the spices in it aromatically informed him that all was ready.

"That's more like it!" he exclaimed and went to work stuffing it into the sausage casings before tying off the ends. For a good hour he pressed on in this fashion. Finally when the last bit of meat was gone from the enormous metal bowl, he stood back and admired the pile of sausages several dozen deep. "That should keep the neighborhood in stock for a couple of days anyhow."

"Now _that _is what I am a talking about!" Stallone cheered and clapped his hands. "Steve, my boy, you certainly can produce! This makes me happy!" He helped Steve get the sausages into the icebox. "Why don't you wash up? You have done good day's work. Peggy waits."

Hearing her name brought a warm smile to Steve's lips and made his eyes sparkle in the sunshine. The war had been Hell all right but it had brought her to him. "She'd want me to help you clean up, _Signor_."

"Not today. My Louisa and your Peggy—they have big feast planned. You go home and get changed. We will see you tonight." Stallone rubbed his shoulder as he had since Steve was a little boy.

Steve's mouth watered knowing how _Signora Stallone _could cook. "You will for sure. Can we bring anything?"

"You already are. Steve, we are _familia_ of choice, my boy. You and Peggy—you survive the war. You bring back my country's good name from the depths. We owe you," Stallone reminded him. "And before that, you were a good boy always."

_This is why I fought. I know that now. _Despite the bullying and the beatings, Steve did have great memories of the old neighborhood. "_Gratze." _

"My pleasure. Now shoo!" The storekeeper pleasantly motioned him toward the sink where he could wash up.

Steve did so and then hung up his apron on the hook in the backroom. He made his way out of the storeroom and toward the front of the store. There he stopped and beheld a radiant sight.

Peggy watched him. Her eyes sparkled in the warm summer sun. Her dark brown hair rustled in the Brooklyn breeze. Her white blouse and dark skirt combined simplicity and tradition. A smile pulled at her rouge colored lips. "Good evening, my Captain. Have a good day?"

"The best. And you?" He kissed her on the cheek and gazed into her eyes.

"As always, I make the best of it. The neighbors and I had a wonderful high tea this afternoon. I really must get that cannoli recipe," she indicated.

"You're going to make me fat," he teased her.

"I highly doubt that. Still I do need to make sure that we live well. I can take time for that. Now can't I?" She inspected him and nodded. "You always did pass muster, Steve."

"Thanks."

"When you aren't late." She smirked mischievously.

He rolled his eyes at their little joke. "Let's get ready for dinner and you can tell me all about your volunteer work too."

Her eyes lit up. She squeezed his hand as they headed up the street. "Be glad to." She glanced up at the setting sun and smiled at him.

He sighed contentedly. This was all he wanted and ever needed…._Ever needed…._

[Arctic]

Steve's mouth twisted ever so slightly into a smile. He had some form of Paradise to wait on.

Now if only a rescue would come…..


	3. Discussions

Chapter 3 [Next Day—Allied Command]

Fresh off of the outing with the Commandos, Peggy marched into the office with increased pep in her step. While her heart still felt heavy over Steve's absence, she determined to conquer the omni-present intel pile at her station to find a chink in that Nazi armor all the sooner….

…to end the war that much sooner….

…to start searching for her Captain all the sooner….

She settled into her seat and glanced at the aforementioned pile. "Time to press on." She picked up the first document and started reading.

[Three Hours Later]

After scratching out so many notes that it felt her hand would fall off, she set her pencil and careworn legal pad down on the desk. Several potential leads had become clear to her especially in occupied Poland and along the Russian front. Perhaps it would be time to send help to Stalingrad to help the Soviets?

If the Soviets could unpin themselves maybe they could push the Nazis back into Berlin that much sooner?

She shook her head while getting up and grabbing the oft-utilized coffee mug. She needed a minute to consider options before writing up her report. Before leaving, she locked the notes and briefs away securely. Then she headed for the cafeteria and the coffee pot warming in the corner.

The warm java smell admittedly energized her.

She poured a cupful for herself. After adding a dash of crème and two lumps for the road, she sampled its pleasures. Her throat immediately relaxed its raspy response. "Can we trust Stalin?"

"Depends on what you'd trust him with, Agent Carter."

She set her cup down, turned and instinctively broke into a crisp salute. "Good morning, Colonel Phillips. I didn't hear you come in."

"You were a million miles away, Carter," her superior acknowledged gruffly while pouring and fixing his own drink. "Glad to see that. Got some ideas?"

"I do as a matter of fact. Maybe a pincer move?" She glanced around to see if anyone was listening in.

He did the same. "Walk with me. Now would be a good time to can the break and get some work done. Get your coffee."

"Right. Thanks, Colonel." She followed him out of the lunch room and back toward the situation room. Once inside, she asked, "Are we clear?"

"We're fine." He assured her although his eyes did acknowledge her desire for tact. "Show me on the board what you got in mind."

She took the wooden pointer from the corner and motioned toward the tabletop board picture of Europe and Asia. "We're already coming up from Italy. I was thinking of a staging area in Eastern Europe. Maybe Poland? Maybe we airlift soldiers to the gates of Stalingrad and break the Nazis' siege there?" she proposed.

"Take a lot of manpower, Agent Carter. Besides, as I told Captain Rogers, you'd have a lot of the most fortified territory in Europe between those men and our ability to resupply them," he pointed out. "Still it is an idea. I'll send that up the flagpole. Maybe if we broke the siege, Stalin could focus on pulling his end."

"And if we have a presence there, he couldn't use the Red Army to expand. Sorry, Colonel, I don't trust Stalin or the Soviets in that regard," she predicted knowingly.

Phillips waved that notion off. "I agree on not trusting Stalin. Personally I'd like to put a bullet in that thick skull of his. But the Russians are going to be more focused on rebuilding than expanding. Eastern Europe will get back to its own business. If the siege is still going in a couple of months, we can deal with it then. Maybe Stark might see something on his mission."

"Stark?" She arched an eyebrow. "Hopefully he won't blow himself up. What's he up to now?"

He sighed. "He's off on another of your shared crusade trips. He's scouting out an alternative flight plan between here and Eastern Europe over the Arctic so he says. Personally I think he's obsessed with finding Rogers myself."

"I still have hope, Colonel. Until there's a body, I will wait," she vowed earnestly.

He bit back the terse response in his throat. Despite the staged funeral and other attempts to move on, Stark, the Howling Commandos, several of his own superiors and, most of all, she wouldn't give up the ghost. Personally, while he missed Steve, he wasn't about to end his whole war over it or declare the Captain a saint or anything. "As long as you keep coming up with intel and theories like these, fine. Wait. It's your life, Agent Carter. Make yourself a nun over a crush." He shrugged and walked out the room.

She fumed to herself. She acknowledged that the more days which passed increased the odds of her Captain's return. Still her heart ached for that. Yes Duty ruled her head….

…yet duty and love could co-exist, couldn't they?

She sucked in a deep burning breath and left the situation room. She was bound for her station and those notes.

When Stark returned, she'd have some plans for Phillips all right.

He could count on that….


	4. Stark's Expedition

Chapter 4 [Somewhere over the Arctic east of Greenland]

Even as Agent Carter scanned her notes and stoked her heart's furnace with Hope's logs, a lone aircraft flew low over the polar icecap. Over the previous three days, the transport had criss-crossed the terrain, waters and ice between Greenland's midway point, the Baltic, the North Sea and the Soviets' questionably friendly ports to the east.

As per his mission guidelines, Howard Stark charted the territory as his pilot pressed them onward. His advancements in navigation and sonar enabled them to eliminate potential routes as nonstarters. While not really chatting with the pilot, he directed the other man along areas parallel to minor shipping lanes and such.

To his credit, he'd charted three new routes for the Allies' consideration. He and the pilot clearly saw an advantage to their plans between England and Eastern Europe.

Now if the Allies could keep pushing east and maintain the Soviets' role in their affairs….

…That was the kicker in the whole deal….

His pilot, a slender forty-something man with salt and pepper hair glanced over at him. "Think we can head back now, Stark?" He struck a match and lit (yet another) cigarette. A couple of puffs wafted over the concerted look he now shot the industrialist.

"We still have twelve hours, Richards. There's something we still need to do," Stark retorted. As Phillips had deduced, he held firm to his inner commitment. Maybe he didn't believe in Cap's continued existence as Peggy had hoped. Maybe he was wasting military time and resources.

Frankly he could give a damn….

Stark respected Steve Rogers enough to find his body and give it a proper burial. For his service, Rogers deserved no less.

"Whatever, Chief. It's your funeral. I don't want to deal with Command over it…or the Wife for that matter. Some of us still have Christmas to get ready for," Richards retorted allowing more than a few wisps of annoyance into his voice. "I'm not disappointing my kids because of your damn obsession."

Stark returned the pilot's glare with one of his own. "And what about Captain Rogers' family, Richards? Maybe they'd like some closure? Maybe I should radio Agent Carter when we get back to London? Maybe you'd like to _face her_?" His mustache twitched with annoyance before returning to the readings. "The metal detector I've added to the sonar should pick up on the Valkyrie's hull."

"The damn thing's buried under ice and snow up here," Richards interjected (for the dozenth time).

"Ice and snow which is constantly _shifting_, my doubting friend. Take that down, will you?" Stark watched his instruments carefully. He knew they were close to the last recorded place where Cap had been sighted in the air. "We are not that far from the sea. And…"

Richards glanced at the industrialist's instruments. On the screen, a faint blip appeared. "You've got a bite, Stark. Wanna circle around and check your tip up?"

Stark rolled his eyes at the sarcastic ice fishing assessment. He glanced up from the tinkering project he had on his lap and over at the screen. He almost dropped the new technology.

A blip….a blip…_at last_….

After months of searching sea and air fruitlessly, a sign had appeared….

"Cross referencing now," Stark announced. He flipped on his second device and waited for results.

"That thing? Come on! Your radiation detector drains our batteries faster than a freakin' spider sucks a bug dry!" Richards complained.

"I'll only need a couple of minutes. Patience." Stark urged while studying the screen in front of himself. After finding the tesseract cube on the sea floor, he deduced that its radiation would still linger on the Valkyrie's hull and cabin inside. The weapons buried therein also contained the cobalt radiation as well. Consequently, if one wanted to hunt for an aircraft which practically crackled with that energy, maybe a device that could detect it might be in order?

A device like the one to his left. A device which would light up just as blue as its targeted energy if he was right….

"Yeah after we crash too. Then you can join your buddy. Some rich boy, I…." Richards started.

Stark's eyes went wide. He grinned and almost bounced out of his seat like a child might've three days later. "DAMN! IT'S A MATCH! DO ANOTHER SWEEP OVER THAT SPOT!"

Richards stifled his objection but banked the Beech into a loop and retraced their steps. He wanted the Quixotic crusade over with. He wanted his wife's ham and beans not to mention a warm hearth. "Readings?"

The genius saw the bright blue flash again. "It's down there! Set us down as close to it as you can!"

"If we don't break the struts off first." Richards used three circles of the area to diminish their airspeed before setting them down on the ice flow as gingerly as possible. He managed to wheel them up beside what had seemed like an icy outcropping at first.

The winds however had blown off the accumulated snow. The shifting ice had left its quarry exposed for the moment.

Stark hurriedly unstrapped his seat belts. His heart beat faster with each passing second. His devices had done their job—a task which would be noted to the Allied commanders upon their return to London. Now though came the second part of the mission. He almost ripped open the supply closet and grabbed the heavy weather gear.

"You want us to go _out there_?" Richards wondered. He shook his head while undoing his own belt. "That's _nuts_!"

"Maybe, Richards. I came prepared." Stark produced two thin outfits resembling a cross between flannel underwear and an infant's pull ons. Each had a glittering appearance. "The insulators. Here put one on." He tossed one to his pilot. Then he took his own boots off and slipped his feet into the shoe shaped coverings.

"This is going to keep us warm?" The pilot had serious doubts about his passenger by now. He considered the glittering suit in his hands with trepidation. He glanced through the window toward the chill Arctic wastes outside. He shivered at the cold pressing in already.

"I tested it in a room chilled with liquid nitrogen. Not a scratch on me or the suits even after a morning's worth of exposure. Confidence, Richards, write that down," Stark assured him while securing the snaps down the covering's front. Then he slipped his boots and parka on. "Don't forget the hood or gloves." He finished covering himself while adding a set of goggles for good measure. As Richards followed his lead, he pulled a tank about a foot and a half long in length, an accompanying torch and a duffel bag. "Our means of entry. It's time to crash the Good Captain's party, eh?"

"I suppose you tried those in your whacked out icebox too?" Richards queried aghast.

Stark fought back his indignation choosing instead to smirk mischievously and get the other's goat all the more. Besides, in light of the odds, better to maintain some swagger for show if nothing else. "I wouldn't be taking them if I hadn't. Let's go, Richards. Sooner we get this done, the better." He slipped the tank on his back and put the torch over his shoulder. "Get the bag please? It's time to go."

"What's in this? More party favors?" Richards gibed half-seriously.

"A few things we'll need. Now can we?" Stark queried impatiently.

_It's time to die. Christ, help us! _Richards murmured a few Hail Marys and crossed himself before following the inventor outside with said duffel bag in tow.

[An hour later—Inside of the Valkyrie]

After a ten minute trek across the ice flow, a effort filled climb up the terrain and ship's hull and four attempts by Stark's 'super torch' to cut through Hydra's best material, the duo punched an entrance through the outside for themselves. They quickly lowered themselves to the metal siding underneath by means of a pair of well knotted ropes.

"We're in. We're really in here!" Richards realized aghast. He was beginning to think his passenger actually knew what he was doing. He unzipped the duffel and grabbed the portable lantern. Turning it on, he discovered a powerful spotlight that lit up a good chunk of the area on its own. "Wow!"

"I _am prepared_," Stark interjected with another goodly puff of sarcasm. He took the other lantern and swept it around the area. He beheld a variety of smaller biplanes in differing conditions but all wrecked beyond repair. The catwalk in front of them was twisted but still looked firm enough. "Watch yourself. We must press on."

"Got to hand it to you. These suits are warm too. Thanks," Richards admitted.

"No trouble at all. Follow me and bring the gear," Stark pressed while leading his pilot deeper into the ship itself.

[Another hour after that]

Fresh off of two dead ends, Stark tried to contain his own misgivings. He checked his wrist chrono several times to see that they were getting on for 2:30 local time. _Only another hour before we have to leave. What rubbish! _

"Sure you don't have a map in the bag?" Richards supposed.

"Hydra doesn't give out travel guides, my friend." Stark found an open door. "What's this?" He shone his wide light beam into the abyss beyond.

The lantern's beam revealed a huge cockpit area. It showed what seemed to be miles of mechanical instruments and dials. Levers and buttons lay smashed below their former bases.

"It's like a spaceship!" Richards presumed in awe.

Stark, although he didn't want to admit it, was just as impressed if not more so than his companion. Hydra had constructed a masterpiece. Based on what he'd seen thus far, there was no way he could even begin to duplicate the craft…at least not at that point.

…of course he wasn't about to admit that to anyone….

"Look for the radio!" he directed his pilot.

"Why's that?" the other man queried.

"Last thing Rogers did was to radio good bye. He may still be there!" Stark rushed around the cabin. He forced himself to ignore the technological wonders around himself. Once his goal was accomplished, he could record them for his own notes later.

The Captain was his primary focus at that point….

_Come on, Rogers! Where are you? _Stark wondered.

Richards slowly crept across the metallic flooring. He wanted to make sure nothing was going to shoot, stab or otherwise injure him. He waved his lantern's light around the command console area. "Radio's here! It's smashed up and…." He saw something against the left bulkhead glinting in the lantern. "Stark! Look!" He turned his beam toward the spot.

In the corner a familiar symbol caught the light and reflected a beckon back at them from under its icy prison…..

….a welcomed red and white circular pattern with a white star in its center….

Stark pumped his fists in the air with excitement. "I KNEW IT!" He rushed over to the spot. "Richards, the gear! NOW!" He stared in wonder; his senses awash in both triumph and awe over finding his friend's body after all of that time.

"On it!" By now the pilot had lost his doubts over this venture. He lugged the bag to the industrialist's side. "What first?"

Stark eyed the ice. He could see Steve's face under the clear covering. "Start chipping away on that side. We don't want to scar the body. We must be careful."

"I get it," the pilot agreed. He took short and pinpoint whacks at the ice.

Meantime Stark turned the torch on the ice prison's other side. Turning the setting to half power, he aimed the torch. "Soon you'll be resting in proper honor, my friend."

Even at a reduced setting, the powerful flame steamed its way through the ice. Melting cover rose through the chill air. If not for the torch's heat, it would've refrozen over its prisoner. Within fifteen minutes, it had cleared most of the ice.

"Stand back, Richards!" Stark directed as he finished the job.

Not for the last time did the pilot admire the other's genius. "Didn't think anything would cut like that through ice without this." He hefted the ice pick for emphasis.

"Such brutish tools. Really, Richards! Leave it to me," Stark affirmed. He checked over the fallen super soldier's body and puzzled over its condition.

The skin was still reddened and not bluish as he might've thought. Other than that, no signs of frostbite could be seen.

Cap's mouth remained in a perfect line with just a slight bit of opening.

"Amazing. He's…." Stark pushed his hand over his mouth to close it. Pulling it back, he saw something that made his eyes go wide.

A slight trace of frozen breath on the glove.

He pulled his face covering up a hair. He felt the Arctic biting chill but he had to try something.

"What the Hell? Stark!" Richards protested.

"Scientific method, my stubborn pilot," Stark affirmed while bending over Cap's face and put his exposed cheek close to it.

Sure enough a slow shallow breath moistened the exposed skin.

Stark backed up and yanked the mask back down. He cleared his throat as his mind sought to digest what had just happened.

"Stark! Hey, Stark! What's wrong?" Richards demanded. "You okay?"

Stark nodded slowly. He allowed a satisfied smile to cross his lips. "You know that salvage operation we're on?"

"Yeah? So I….We aren't just going to leave! No way!"

Stark glared at him. "Of course not! We're still on point, my good man. We're on a _rescue mission _now." He began rooting through the bag.

"Rescue mission? Why? I…Wait!" Richards demanded, "He's _alive_?"

"That is what rescue missions mean, correct?" Stark pulled out a rolled up cloth bundle. After untying it, he snapped a long heavy burlap bundle to its full length. His mind swam with details.

Somehow they had to get Cap out of there….

Somehow they had to get him back to the ship….

_But Cap was alive!_

_Cap was alive!_

Stark marveled at this occurrence. After everything, the puzzle was before them…

"You mean after the crash? And the ice? Damn!" Richards wondered.

"Yes, Mr. Richards. Now please help me while I lend my mind to this task please?" Stark affirmed while studying the area around themselves. He put his mind to work. Soon enough they would be free again.

It was just a matter of _how._

And that is what he did best…..


	5. Christmas Eve

Chapter 5 [Christmas Eve]

[Allied Command]

Even after her fellow analysts departed for the holidays and their furlough, Peggy wrapped up the first draft of her report for Phillips. She'd wished her colleagues and their families well in addition to a Merry Christmas. She looked forward to the merriment with the Commandos later that evening and their dinner on the following day. Truly close friends and co-workers lessened the longing and loss for even an orphan such as herself.

Before such sentiments, however, she had business to finish. Two affairs awaited her attention.

She completed the first task with the report's draft. As she vowed to herself, when Stark returned, they would have a basis for an eastern offensive. "I won't let the boys down. I will be counted on." She gazed upon the document before sealing it in an envelope. She locked it away in the desk drawer for safe keeping. Then she stood slowly and collected her thick overcoat in preparation for the second task.

She opened the top drawer and pulled out a familiar folder. Opening it, she found her most special picture….

…the one of Steve before the procedure…when he was only inner strength and heart….

…but even so, she had fallen for him at that point….

She smiled sadly. Her heart ached for him desperately. She sucked in a deep breath. "I love you, Captain. Merry Christmas wherever you are." She slid the photo in her coat pocket before pulling the heavy wrap around herself. She shut her light off and took one last look around at her office.

Her cocoon still called to her….

The outside world hurt so much….

She exhaled a heavy sigh while forcing herself from that pull. For once she'd embrace the world for tis sake. She'd go out for her friends' sake…for Life itself….

But not before that last piece of business….

[St. Margaret's Catholic Church, Eastcheap—Two hours later]

[A/N: I know Peggy's faith was never discussed in the movie (or even if she believed). For the sake of argument, I'm going to make the leap here….]

Peggy crossed herself one last time as the Christmas Mass concluded. She had watched the assembled parishioners in the church conducting the service in unison being used to each other's voices as well as the priest's cadences during his sermon. Admittedly this had been the first time she'd returned to a church of any kind in years….

...since the Blitz had claimed her parents….

…since she'd lost everything that day…..

She bit back her tears and guilty feelings. Everything had been so hollow since the bombing. The shells had rendered her a zombie in all but living tissue. She lived for her work. She lived to prove that a woman could make it _there_, _then _and _as equal to a man_. Nothing else mattered. Short of a miracle nothing would derail from that ambition….

…A miracle with blond hair, a scrawny build, a mussed up yellow mop on top yet with the heart of a lion and those piercing determined blue eyes.

Although Phillips didn't see it at first, she immediately recognized what Erksine saw in Steve. She definitely approved. Although robbed of their dance, she would waltz with him in _Memoria_'s tune. She would wait for news either way.

She fumbled with her hands while dealing with her own doubts. Her own feelings of inadequacy weighed on her. She looked around anxiously to see if anyone watched her. "I know I'm…not the greatest Catholic….But I don't pray for me today. I pray for someone I love." She collected her breath even as her heart beat faster. "Wherever you are, Captain, may you be at peace. I wish for you the best of things…to know that I love you. I may not have told you so. I have to be one of the boys, God. But in this, I hope for resolution for us all. Can you give us a sign? Please." She bowed her head; the inadequacies both eating at her gut and causing her to tremble at the same time. "Amen." She sighed and castigated herself, "Some prayer."

"It was a fine prayer, Miss."

She felt annoyed at first at the potential peeping tom. She stood and reined in her anger remembering that she was in a church. She half-expected it to be the priest offering his two cents. She turned to find something else altogether.

An elderly woman leaned heavily on her cane. She wore a threadbare coat and shook ever so slightly in the knees. Time and _Sol _had reduced her face to a mass of wrinkles. Her hair lay on her head as gently as the white snow on the grass outside. "Forgive me, Miss. I didna' mean to intrude." She smiled kindly.

"It's all right." For some reason, Peggy forgot her anger. She couldn't remain so with this person for some reason. "Thank you. Is someone with you?"

"No, Dear. I live by myself. I normally see myself home. It's na' far," the older woman insisted. "You have something else on your mind tonight. Think on your love. It will be all right. Was he one of our brave soldiers?"

Peggy nodded. "One of the bravest although Steve would insist that he was only doing his duty. He disappeared on a mission. He never hesitated to sacrifice himself for us all."

"A truly wonderful man indeed. Someone like that will find his reward. If you don't mind me asking, what's your name? I'm Clarissa," Clarissa assessed with assurance.

"I'm Peggy. Thank you for your kindness," Peggy replied. Her heart warmed at the elderly woman's words. "We all do our duty."

"Some more than others. Don't be so hard on yourself. You have the look of someone who's seen too much tragedy, Peggy." Clarissa looked at the younger girl firmly. "Live and don't regret. I'm sure there'll be news soon about your Steve."

Peggy didn't know what to make of Clarissa's pronouncement but decided to humor her anyhow. "I'll do that." She checked her purse and saw she had more than enough money to offer her a meal. "Meantime can I walk you to the pub? How about….?" She looked up and stared incredulously.

Clarissa had disappeared. She wasn't anywhere in sight. Given that they were at least twenty feet from the door, she couldn't have hobbled out of there that quickly.

"Where the Devil did she go?" Peggy wondered while looking around for the kindly old woman. She couldn't see Clarissa anywhere. "Strange." Then she turned to where her coat sat on the varnished wood and stared yet again.

From out of nowhere, two roses—one white and one red—sat in a cradle of pine boughs right there on top of her wrap.

"How curious indeed! Poor lady." She put on her coat and considered the roses again. "How sweet. But who left these?" She shook her head but held her roses as she headed out into the deepening darkness outside.

Could there be magic afoot? Or perhaps something else? One could nver tell…..

[Cask and Ale—Half an hour later]

A light snow fell as Peggy parked in the lot behind the ancient pub. She still mused over Clarissa's sudden disappearance. "Too bad I would've liked to at least have bought her a meal. Wherever she is, hopefully she's all right." She considered the roses now on her car seat. "I wish she'd taken those with her. Poor Dear. All alone and without her treasured blooms." She got out and locked her car. Then she glanced up into the sky. "For love's sake and duty to my friends." Then she pressed inside the eatery.

Montgomery waited for her by the coat rack. "Good evening, Agent Carter. Thought that Phillips had waylaid you."

"Not a chance, Lieutenant. I've done my share. Tonight is our celebration…ours and the Captain's," she asserted while taking off her coat and putting it over her arm. "Lead on. I'll keep it with me."

"As you wish," the British Commando relented. He did want to hang it up for her as per gentlemanly etiquette but would not offend her in trying to do so. "He would want us to enjoy our friendship."

"He would indeed. You boys are the best friends—except for Mr. Barnes—that I've seen him with," she indicated. "We all work together."

"But tonight we drink together and celebrate," Dum Dum insisted as the duo reached the table. "You're late, Carter."

"Got hung up doing holiday business." She allowed a brief smile at the joke between her and her Captain. Then she shrugged while joining them at the usual corner table. "What are you boys drinking tonight?"

"Ale okay? We got our usual pitcher coming," Dino assumed.

She nodded in due consideration. "And the fish and chips?"

"What else? We figured you might want something fancier given that it's Christmas Eve," Howard assumed.

"Food's food," Dum Dum assumed. "Just keep the tab open, the drinks coming and the friends around. Celebrate today for tomorrow we fight again." He raised his mug. "To friends past and present. Present company included."

"In memory of the Captain and Mr. Barnes," Peggy added while raising her glass.

"Hear! Hear!" The Commandos eagerly touched their mugs in appreciation of the fine toast before drinking on it.

A balding portly man in a striped shirt and dark pants set a huge platter of fried cod and potatoes in their midst with a bottle of vinegar. He added a plate of lemon. "The manager doubled your order, Gents and Ma 'am. Merry Christmas!"

"Thanks, Jack! What a plate!" Dum Dum expressed while seasoning the potato chips with the vinegar. Then he glanced toward the door. "What the Hell are they doing here?"

Peggy and the other Commandos saw two uniformed MPs enter the pub and walk toward them. They each looked at one another wondering what was going on.

Finally she stood and met them at chair side. "Good evening, Gentlemen. We're on Christmas furlough but can we help you?"

"Agent Margaret Carter, correct?" one MP, a muscular red haired man, queried.

"That's right. Is there any trouble?" she wondered.

"Urgent military business. Top secret concerning you and these gentlemen in York. It's urgent you come with us immediately. You will be briefed when we get there," the second MP informed them albeit in a cryptic manner.

"Just a minute. Can we wrap up our dinner?" Dum Dum presumed while signaling for Jack again.

"Put it in a bag and let's go. Leave the beers please. We'll have coffee for you _en route_," the first MP instructed.

The barkeeper slid the platter into a brown paper bag. "Sorry, Folks."

"Thanks, Jack. It ain't your fault," Montgomery assured him while fighting the urge to let the Scrooge Twins get a sharp glare. "Bloody stuff! And on Christmas too!" He grabbed his wool coat and threw it on. "Come on, Mates! Let's rip and get this affair over with."

"The Captain would want us to honor our duty," she affirmed while putting her coat on. Then she looked firmly at the two MPs. "Lead on, Gentlemen."

"Yes, Ma 'am," the first MP agreed before leading them out of the pub and toward the waiting transport outside. "We have a plane waiting at the strip for you."

"At least we don't have to drive all night. Maybe we might get a Christmas after all," Dum Dum presumed.

_We can hope! _She eyed her car where the two flowers still sat…now twice abandoned and doomed to freeze on this cold evening…._I'm sorry…._

The truck pulled away toward the RAF base and whatever the mission at hand was.

Scrooge it seemed was in fine spirits on that Christmas Eve…or was it something else?

It was sometimes hard to tell…..


	6. Dreamscape Dinner

Chapter 6 [Cap's Dreamscape]

The sun had set over the Brooklyn neighborhood allowing Nocturne and her star studded cloak to envelop the world once more. A few birds still sang in the cooling breezes. The streetlights snapped on. Streetcars and busses ran people from work and to their last errands of the day.

Such was the way for a people transitioning from the workday to leisure affairs once more…..

Steve inspected himself in front of the mirror. After he and Peggy had come back from the market, they'd worked together on their contribution to the Stallones' potluck—two freshly baked apple pies. Then they took their showers and dressed.

He smoothed his white dress shirt and grey slacks. He made sure his tie was straight. Then he pulled his blazer on and combed his hair one last time. He nodded in satisfaction. "You still pass muster, Steve." He glanced out the window toward the hard streets below.

In his mind's eye, he could still see that picked on kid…the one struggling to survive and thrive in the concrete jungle. The one who'd taken countless poundings and beatings.

The one who'd risen to become a hero…America's hero…_Peggy's dance partner…._

"Remember that, Steve. Remember," he reminded himself somberly. While he didn't want to wallow in the past, he let it keep him humble.

"Remember what, Steve?" she wondered while stepping into view. She wore a white blouse and dark skirt. "Is something the matter?"

"Nope. Just saw a bit of the past. Can't let myself get a swelled head. Pretty hard when I have the best deal in the universe." He smiled warmly at her.

"Not that I'd let you, Captain." She shot him the warm yet pointed glance and a mischievous smirk. "You still pass muster."

"As do you." He kissed her cheek. "Love you, Peggy."

She sighed. "Keep that up and you're going to make my mascara run." She let him see her eyes twinkle in approval. "Come along. We shouldn't keep them waiting. Take a pie and I'll get the other."

"Yes, _Dear_." He grinned while balancing the pies. "Lock the door?"

"Certainly," she concurred. After they stepped out, she turned the key in the lock and dropped it into her purse. "Now for our treat."

"Great food, friends and good times. Nothing better," he declared as they descended the stairs toward the street beyond.

[Stallones' Flat—twenty minutes later]

Steve and Peggy reached their friends' door refreshed after their stroll through Nature's nighttime theater. They'd enjoyed the backdrop happening around themselves. Their appetites certainly drew them toward the culinary nirvana awaiting them three blocks away.

"Hope we aren't late," he presumed while checking their watch.

"For once, it's all right," she relented although she was rolling her eyes on the inside. She rapped on the door. "Louisa? Antonio? It's Steve and Peggy."

The door opened slowly and an eight year old boy peered out at them. "Good evening, _Signora Rogers. Signor Rogers._"

"Good evening, Emilio," Steve greeted with a warm twinkle in the eye and a smile for their dark haired greeter. "May we come in?"

"_Si_." The boy opened the door wider and ushered them inside. "May I take your coats? Mama and Papa are in the kitchen."

After they took off their coats, Steve handed them over to Emilio. "Thanks."

The boy nodded and retreated toward his room with the coats in question.

Steve surveyed the front room. As it had been since he was a boy, the Stallones' flat had remained a simple place. A threadbare couch had supported two generations of family gatherings. The padded chair in the corner had been Antonio's father's first before it was passed to Antonio himself. He chuckled to himself.

_"Mind yourself, Steven. Be a good boy. One day, world will open up. No?" a heavy set dark haired man told him through Memoria's eye. _

"Steve?" She recognized the far off look as one where he was recalling something.

"I'm seeing _Signor Stallone _again. He was some man, Peggy. Wish you could've met him," he revealed.

"Papa was that," his boss concurred with a big grin. "Glad you remember."

"I'd never forget your parents, _Signor_. Never. Thanks for inviting us," Steve expressed.

"Friends treat each other well, no? We all do that. At store—it's _Signor_. Here we're family. Okay?" Antonio clarified. "Peggy, you look delightful."

"Thank you. I agree with Steve. This was a splendid opportunity for all of us. Where are your other children?" Peggy wondered.

"They are helping their Uncle Mario tonight, Peggy," a dark haired woman explained. "Are those the pies? _Mama mia!_ You outdo yourselves!"

"Nonsense!" Peggy assured her. "What are friends for? Perhaps I can give you a hand in the kitchen while the boys catch up?"

"The cooking is done. _Gratze_." She accepted the pies and carried them into the kitchen and dining room. "Emilio, set the table please?"

_"Si, Mama_," the boy concurred. "Excuse me, _Signor Rogers_." With that he headed for the kitchen where the plates and settings were.

"Emilio's a good boy. He was at Mario's earlier. He always likes being around you both. Hope you it is okay?" Antonio explained.

"He's a splendid young man. I appreciate the help when he comes over to visit, Antonio," she assured the host.

"Can't argue with that. Besides our families have been friends for how long? We're here for each other," Steve chimed in. "This is what we fought for." He smiled at his friend.

"We prayed for you." Antonio noted somberly. He also thought of Bucky but knowing Steve's feelings kept that to himself. "And see? You pull through. You meet beautiful lady. Life is good."

"It is." Peggy agreed readily with a refreshed smile. Everything she had pretty much wanted was in that room.

"Come. We eat," Louisa bade her husband and their guests while motioning them into the kitchen/dining room. "Please enjoy." Her eyes sparkled invitingly toward them. "Sit, relax, _manga._"

Steve's mouth watered at the fairly bursting table. He saw a warm loaf of star bread on a platter. A large romaine salad with different veggies bathed in a mixed olive oil/wine vinegar wash sat in its own bowl. On the stove, he saw the soup pot with the heavenly ziti in it….

The ziti he remembered from his earliest childhood in this neighborhood. The homemade pasta with chunks of fresh sausage, tomato and carefully rolled meatballs—correction _cannonballs _was more like it—hiding within the chewy mass.

"You never cease to amaze," Peggy complimented.

Louisa took a second to consider the words before nodding. "You are too kind, Peggy. Thank you. Shall we? Emilio, please join us." When they had sat down, she turned to her husband. "Antonio?"

"_Si_." He bade them all bow their heads while he said the grace. Within a minute, he was finished with his message of thanks. Then he took the plates and began filling them with good food.

Steve bit into the ziti allowing the taste to melt on his tongue and coat his mouth with the spicy tomato wonder. As it had minutes earlier, his mind slipped back and forth between the earlier times and his present.

…between the generations of Stallones and his own family….

…between the layers of their shared family by choice….

He saw the ghosts of their parents standing by the table and considering them warmly.

"You said life is good, Antonio. This is the best. Be it so humble, it's home," Steve surmised.

"It is good." Antonio squeezed his wife's hand warmly. "Now _manga_!" He motioned toward the food on his plate. "You eat up, no?"

"I eat up." Steve smirked and dove into his meal..

As he did, the room seemed to warm a bit. A bright light appeared and swept him away.

How would be telling…telling indeed….


	7. St George's Mission becomes Clear

Chapter 7 [York—St. George Military Hospital—9:30 PM]

Far to the north of London, York's main military hospital bustled with activity. Despite the festivities outside, the war wounded still needed tending. Nurses lugged charts and carts of medication into the sick rooms. Doctors examined the patients and operated when needed.

Outside of one special room, two MPs stood at attention maintaining an honor guard for the special patient inside.

A tall and slender doctor with streaks of grey and white through his hair examined Steve's chart and shook his head. "He shouldn't be alive much less registering any brain activity." He scribbled a few notes in the file and shut it quickly. His eye drifted over the electric blanket slowly warming Steve's body temperature back to normal.

"Captain Rogers isn't like other patients," Stark replied wearily from the corner.

"Yes I heard about Erksine's procedure. You were in on it, Mr. Stark?" the doctor supposed.

"I was. Fine success that was," the industrialist insisted while bristling at the other's disapproval. "It's too bad that Hydra killed the professor before the test could be repeated."

"Yes. _Too bad indeed." _The physician turned his nose. "I understand my duty. I'll do what I can, Mr. Stark. I just don't approve of playing God like that." He shook his head and handed his chart off to the nurse at his side. "Make sure my recommendations are met." With that he left the room.

She accepted the folder but stood quietly while watching the supposed playboy caring for his friend. Her eyes clearly picked up on the industrialist's gentle manner about inspecting the care in that room. Since the Captain's return from the Arctic wastes two days earlier, she had been secretly impressed. Hearing how Stark had risked his own life to bring the patient there, those feelings were increased.

"We had enough of morons like that," Stark groused while shaking his head. He knew there were several other places he could've been and probably should've been on that holiday evening. He could've had his pick of eligible ladies and parties on that particular Yuletide eve. Still he knew he felt a duty to the Captain. He'd taken a hotel room not three miles away in the heart of the city's financial district.

Word had been left with the military brass to get Peggy and the Commandos up there. The higher ups apparently waited until Rogers had been stabilized until they'd move on it.

"What a load of garbage," Howard groused. "Can't _anyone _do what they're supposed to? Sheer rubbish!" He saw her watching observantly in the corner. "Yes, Nurse? Was there another test you needed to run?"

"No, Mr. Stark. I just wanted to say it's truly wonderful to have him back," she indicated with a nervous smile. She started to head for the door. "Truly sorry but I had to say that."

Stark smiled. "Quite all right, Miss. I appreciate the sentiment as do Captain Rogers' other friends." He considered her carefully. Her olive eyes held the light well. From her skin tone and complexion not to mention mannerism, he judged her to be Castilian. Her figure seemed almost like a model's despite the bagginess of her uniform. Her smile intrigued him for some reason. "I'm Howard by the way. You are?"

Her eyes sparkled at his interest but kept their composure. "Maria, Mr. S…Howard. Maria Castallaño." She hedged anxiously for a minute before gathering her courage.

"Something troubling you, Maria?" He smiled gently; his usual suaveness not applying in this case for some reason. He read her as too gentle to deal with his usual maneuvers. "I'm not a brute."

"I never would say that especially the way you tend to him." She looked down at the floor. "I know it's not proper for a lady to ask but…"

"Yes?"

"I was going for _tapas _in a while. It would be quick if you care to join me? Forgive me. I know it is not professional to ask. You're a millionaire. _Soy solamente una chica pobre de España_." She turned to leave knowing she'd overstepped her bounds. "_Adios, Howard._"

He sighed and glanced toward the Captain. _One never knows a woman's mind, my friend. I think I got it though. _He got up and stuck his head out the door. "Which way did the nurse go when she left?"

"Left. She's down at the nurse's station," the MP on the left flatly remarked. "Take a minute, Mr. Stark. We'll let you know if anything happens."

Stark smirked at the man confidently. "Thank you, my friend. I shall be right back." He closed Steve's door and headed down toward the nurse's station. There he found Maria trembling as she wrote out her notes. "A lady doesn't leave so abruptly, my Dear."

She glanced up. "Forgive me, Mr. Stark. I didn't mean…."

He shrugged nonchalantly. "There's nothing to forgive. If you can wait, we'll have more than _tapas_." He added a warm smile for her benefit. "And don't go selling yourself short, _Señorita. Su Corazon es la ricissima." _He raised the back of her hand and kissed it delicately. "I know your quality, Maria." He let his eyes sparkle at her before returning to the room and his charge. "Watch for my friends if you would? A group of GIs and a woman named Agent Margaret Carter will be here shortly. _Gracias._"

Stark smiled at the MPs as he opened the door.

"Your matter attended to, Sir?" the MP on the right queried.

"But of course. Carry on, Gents. Do not delay Agent Carter a second longer than need be," Stark replied with a suave ease to his demeanor as he entered the room. "I never leave a friend in the lurch, Rogers. I know you'd understand." He settled into the chair again. "Patience, my friend. All will be in order soon. Take that down."

Imperceptibly, Steve's mouth tugged itself into a slight smile. His senses, it seemed, were returning….

[Twenty minutes later]

Peggy sipped anxiously on her lukewarm coffee. After not so ceremoniously being yanked from the pub, she and the Commandos had to deal with a hurried drive over to the base, a fifteen minute wait for the plane, the two hour flight and yet another delay when they arrived in York to scramble a truck to ferry them to the hospital. _What's going on? Surely they can tell us something! _

Dum Dum wasn't so reserved, "Say, Chief, what's the deal? Any details on the mission?"

One of the two MPs sitting with them shrugged. "We're heading for St. George's. That's all I know too. Sorry, sirs and Agent Carter. If I knew more, I'd tell you. It won't be long now."

"Bloody likely," Montgomery groused. Even if they did get to eat their feast on the flight, he didn't appreciate having to eat the fish and potatoes half-cold and without his chosen brew. "St. George's? That's a _hospital_! You flew us up here to go _there_? Really, Chaps!"

Her eyes lit up as they pulled into the parking lot. "And that can mean only one thing." She wanted to jump right off of the truck and rush to that nurse's station to ascertain the location of a certain MIA person. However she was still Agent Peggy Carter….

…and accordingly she would act with distinction….

…as she knew her Captain would….

"Go ahead and find out. We were just to get you here. Third floor nursing station," the other MP directed while yanking back the tarp covering the back. "Need a hand, Agent Carter?"

"Thank you but no." She climbed down and straightened out her clothes.

Dum Dum came down next. "All right, Men! Fall in! Then we'll see what this stuff's about! Disrupt our break, will they?" He oversaw his group's discipline and nodded. "Follow me. You want the lead, Carter?"

"Thank you," she expressed while leading her companions into the hospital. An elevator ride later, they stepped onto the third floor right next to the nurse's station.

"So we're here," Dino supposed. "Now what?"

"We bloody get to the bottom of this, my American friend," Montgomery declared.

"Indeed," Peggy concurred. She saw Maria working on some paperwork at the station. "Maybe she might know something?" She approached the Castilian nurse. "Pardon me, we were told to come here. Maybe you can help us?"

"I will do my best, _Señorita_. May I see some identification?" Maria replied pleasantly.

"Of course. Colonel Dugan, can you join me?" Peggy agreed while producing her military ID. She handed it to Maria.

"Margaret Carter? Howard Stark instructed me to watch for you," the nurse realized while handing the card back to Peggy. She skimmed Dum Dum's credentials. "_Gracias_, Colonel Dugan. Are these men with you?"

"They are. You know something? What's going on with Stark?" Dum Dum pressed.

"He has news for you all. Follow me _por favor_," Maria requested pleasantly. She walked the group down to the guarded room. "_Perdona mi, Señores. _These are Agent Carter and Colonel Dugan as per their orders. I believe Mr. Stark will explain._" _

"No need, Miss." The MP and his companion stepped away from the door while saluting them sharply. "We have been instructed to allow you in."

"_Gracias_." Maria rapped on the door and cracked it. "Howard? Is it all right? That company you wish has arrived."

"It's them, Mr. Stark," the right MP concurred.

"Yes! Yes!" Stark stuck his head out the door. "Good evening, Everyone! Glad you could make it."

"It'd better be important, Stark, to interrupt our furlough and fly us halfway across Britain," Dum Dum groused.

"As if I'd interrupt your Christmas for _just anything_? Gentlemen, _please_. I had to share some intel with you right away." Stark's eyes sparkled at Peggy. "You're first, Agent Carter. Go in."

"I'm in no mood for games, Mr. Stark. Enough cloak and dagger. Out with it," she asserted.

"No games intended. The big brass wanted this kept hush hush. Just step through and your question will be answered, Agent Carter." Stark assured her while motioning her through.

"This had better be good, Mr. Stark," Peggy insisted angrily. She stepped over the threshold and strode three steps into the room before she stopped cold. Her eyes went wide as she beheld Steve in the bed. "Captain? GENTLEMEN! IT'S HIM!" She rushed over to his bedside. "Captain? Steve? Steve, it's me! It's Peggy Carter! I'm here!" She threw her arms around his neck.

After all of the long months of waiting…of hoping…of denying the others' pushing to move on, he was there and right there in front of her.

_The Captain was back...He'd made it..._

"What the Devil? Stark?" Montgomery demanded.

"I found him at the end of the last scouting mission. I authorized a _detour _over his last known coordinates after Richards and I finished our business. We found the Valkyrie and got our hero here out of the ice. We got him right back here. I pushed Admiral Edwards as hard as I could to get word to you all. He wanted to be sure Rogers was stable first," Stark explained.

"Stable?" Dum Dum wondered.

"He should've died from exposure if not from the crash itself," Maria explained. "Somehow he was spared." She looked to Stark to carry the explanation.

"He didn't even have a patch of blue on his skin. Maybe a few bruises. Must be Erksine's procedure. His healing rates are off the charts," Stark continued. "Phillips doesn't even know yet. Sorry, Agent Carter, I wanted you to be the first to know."

"I appreciate that, Mr. Stark," she expressed while fighting to keep the tears from being too obvious on her cheeks. "I am sorry for my tone just now."

"I'd be the same way if someone was jerking my chain too," Stark relented. "I guess we all need someone to care for."

"That's right," Dum Dum concurred. "So, Nurse, anything other than Rogers being out that we need to know?"

"No other news. Perhaps you might buy a coffee and wait? My shift ends in five minutes. I have dinner with a …friend. Perhaps we can bring you something, no?" Maria offered. "See you in five, Howard?"

Getting weird looks from the Commandos, Stark shrugged. "I offered the lady some dinner. A hard working person like her deserves more than just _tapas_ on Christmas. I'll bring you back something fresh if you wish to wait. If not, the brass reserved you rooms at the Rushmore down the street."

"I wish to stay with the Captain…if…I may," Peggy requested.

"_Absolutamente_," Maria concurred. "I will let the charge nurse know." She smiled at the other woman. "Stand watch over him, Agent Carter. He is national treasure."

"Indeed." Peggy smiled in appreciation. "Boys, you should get some rest. If something comes up, I'll let you know."

Dum Dum looked back at his three companions. Getting the predicted head shakes, he declined, "Thanks but no thanks. We'll wait in that waiting area by the coffee pot. Just let us know if anything happens. Come on, Guys." After the others had left, he emphasized, "Carter, remember, we're right down the hall. You yell. Got it?"

"Got it. Thank you," she affirmed. "I apologize. I must be a sight."

"No more so than any of us would be. We're friends here, Carter. Just remember that," he reminded her before shutting the door behind himself.

Peggy smiled in spite of her inner turmoil. "You're here, Captain. I have you now. And I'm not letting you go." She saw a fresh wash cloth on the nightstand. She walked over to the sink and dampened one end of it. Then she returned and wiped his forehead. "I will never let you go again. You're my light and great hope." She primped the pillow under his head. Then she settled into the chair where Stark had been. She squeezed his hand. "I'm not losing you. I won't."

And with that, her vigil began…


	8. Reunited

Chapter 8 [Eight hours later]

Nocturne ruled and then waned. The stars and the moon herself eventually gave way before Sol's renewed presence in the east. Before that point, Santa had circled the globe with his haul and sleigh led by Rudolph's magic beacon.

And over York, he'd dropped one particularly vital gift…..

A big one indeed…

Despite fighting off the drowsies, Peggy felt herself wearing down before them. She'd accepted a steady stream of caffeinated refills from the nurses. She refused to surrender to sleep. She would see her white knight back to her reality…back to her side.

She wiped Steve's forehead off again with the dampened rag. She smiled as she did so. "You have to look good for our dance, Captain. I won't have any less. You hear me?" She rubbed his shoulder and beheld his face in the first rays of the Christmas dawn.

The dim light seemed to illuminate the patient's form granting him a halo of sorts. By now his skin had completely healed of its bruises. His hair seemed a gentler form of yellow in that hue.

"There now. You're presentable again, Steven Rogers," she assessed primly. "As if you'd be anything else?" She leaned over and locked lips with his unconscious mouth. She poured her energy and love into him for over a full minute before she had to stop for lack of breath. "That is to remind you that I love you, Captain. I am here. I am _still waiting _for that dance."

"P…Peg…?" Steve whispered. "Wh…what?"

"Captain?" She leaned over him again. "Yes! It's me! Peggy Carter! I'm here. Open your eyes!"

Slowly his eyelids pulled themselves open as if buried under a granite ton apiece.

And, as they did, the first sight they beheld was their beloved brunette spitfire.

"Thank You. Lord," she whispered before kissing him again. "You made it back. I'll fill you in later, Captain. Right now, you've got some very anxious comrades waiting to hear from you."

"In…a minute. P…Peggy, have to tell you…." He managed a smile. "Y…you were with me in there. Thought of you in there." Not having the strength to squeeze her hand, he patted it instead.

Her eyes teared up at those words. Her heart jumped several beats with joy. "And I thought of you too, Captain. I never gave up hope. Howard found you in the ice and brought you back to us." She smiled while straightening his hair. "I'd never give up on you…_even if you are late._"

"Had…to dance," he reminded her managing a little smirk for their common joke. "My…ride broke down…"

She giggled in spite of herself. "Oh, _Captain_! We shall. I promise you!" She got up and rushed over to the door. She flung it open and found the two MPs. "Excuse me."

"Agent Carter, what is it?" one of the two new MPs wondered.

"Get the Howling Commandos here on the double. The patient would like to see them," she informed them. "I need to get back to the Captain if you don't mind."

"Of course!" Getting a nod from his fellow guard, he strode rapidly down the hall and toward the waiting area. There he found Montgomery and Dino playing cards. Dum Dum and Howard snoozed in a pair of chairs nearby. "Gentlemen! ATTENTION!"

"What the Hell?" Dum Dum growled while stirring from his nap. "This is gettin' really old!"

"What's the good word, Chaps?" Montgomery wondered while dealing his American opponent a royal flush.

"Captain Rogers is awake, Colonel Dugan. He's asked for all of you. Agent Carter just asked to see you," the MP clarified.

"Now that is a Christmas present I can deal with! WAAAHHHOOOOOO!" Dum Dum announced. "Come on, Guys! He's back!" He led them quickly down the hall toward where the remaining guard waited for them. "Go right in."

"Thanks," Dum Dum expressed as he found Steve and Peggy embracing. He lingered in the doorway and put a hand up to allow the reunited lovers another minute before intruding on their bliss.

"Dum Dum?" Steve asked weakly.

"Yeah, Rogers. It's me and the rest of the Commandos. The brass brought us all up here last night. Thought they were crashing our Christmas. Damn if they didn't give us the best damn present!" Dum Dum declared.

"You scared us to Hell and back, Rogers," Montgomery lectured.

"Had my duty," Steve responded. "Had to save my country. That's why we're fighting."

"We're also fighting for a life _after _the war, Captain," she reminded him. "Some day we're all going to toast this day. All of us." She kissed his cheek. "You have a duty to us…_to me_."

"I know," Steve relented. "Wish that Bucky was here with us."

"He's looking down on us right now, Rogers. Count on that," Howard insisted. "Someone should call Stark, right?"

"Call me about what?" Stark wondered while walking in through the open door. "What is this? A convention?"

"You could call it that. Your own risk just paid off," Dum Dum informed him.

The industrialist quirked his brow. "Risk? What?" Then he saw the patient and stopped. He nodded in appreciation.

"Thanks, Stark," Steve expressed.

Stark grinned. "Never think your friends gave up on you, Rogers. Merry Christmas, Chief. Good to see you with your eyes open."

"Good to have them open again. Thought that would be it," Steve assumed.

"It should have been. Thank Erskine's formula," Stark declared. "Agent Carter and I were keeping the light burning in the window for you."

"I know." He gazed lovingly into the eyes of his beloved Agent. "She was with me. I somehow knew you'd think of some gadget or way to get me off the Valkyrie."

"You know it. Hey. Let me get a doctor in here to check you over. If everyone's okay with that?" Stark walked toward the nurse's station to find the doctor on call.

"Now this is a Christmas to remember," Steve presumed.

"For all of us, Captain." Peggy rubbed his shoulder. "You rest and get well. We'll worry about everything else once you're on your feet."

"Yes'm," Steve retorted half-seriously even as his eyes sparkled at her.

She would've chided him but didn't care. She had her Captain back again. She had her miracle and heart back once more.

That was all of the Christmas she and their friends needed…..


	9. Surprise Mission

Chapter 9 [A Month Later—Allied High Command, London]

The calendar flipped to another year. Despite the bitter chill of late winter, Londoners pressed through their errands. Although too early to plant, victory gardens were being planned. A few brave souls skated on nearby ponds.

Inside of the Command Center, activity buzzed as well. Activity pressed on as it always had. Reports were typed. Higher ups digested and incorporated intel into their latest battlefield maneuvers.

Phillips, as always, harangued on. He glared at his subordinates wishing that they'd get a move on. He checked his watch and shook his head.

The Brass had their plans on that day.

He hoped they would get what they wanted or there'd be Hell to pay….

Steve entered the area anxiously after his hospital stay. He still felt a bit disoriented following the whole ordeal. Still he felt glad to be back in his dress uniform and ready to serve his country again. He smoothed the brown coat and trousers. He checked his tie to make sure it was straight. "You're okay, Rogers. Just go with it." He took a deep breath not knowing what to expect.

As he entered the place, a tarp of silence fell on everything and everyone. All eyes turned to the Captain. They watched his every move. Whispers stretched the silence's fabric.

Steve ground his teeth. His nerves flared. He never felt like anything special other than a part of the team. He did his duty. So why did have to feel like this? He sucked in a deep breath and managed a nervous smile. "Good morning, Everyone. Good to be back."

A mid-twenty something female staffer stood up. "It's great to have you back, Captain Rogers. How about it, Everyone?"

A sergeant with greying hair stood as well. "How about a round for Captain America? Let's have it!"

As one, the office broke into a round of applause for him. Some whistled in appreciation. Others toasted him with their coffee mugs. Still more gave him salutes.

Steve squirmed. The overwhelming support threatened to drown him. Frankly he still had the hang ups of being the castoff, orphan, trained monkey, etc. He had dove in head first to prove himself. He drove himself to prove he belonged….

_But now he did? He was accepted? _

He allowed his coworkers their minute. If it pumped them up to serve, he was fine with it. He saw Phillips waiting on the other side of the throng with the usual gruff expression. He beheld Peggy's approving smile and eyes telling him to go with it. He gave her a big grin.

"All right! BREAK IT UP! We do have a war going on!" Phillips finally announced. He didn't mind a minute of such stuff. As Steve had deduced, it did pump the troops up. But business was business. He strode forward purposefully.

Steve met his superior's pace with his own.

The office throng parted like the Red Sea allowing the two men to meet in the middle.

Steve stopped first and broke into a smart salute. "Colonel Phillips, reporting for duty, sir."

"At ease, Rogers." The colonel assessed the recovered man. "Your country thanks you. So do the Allies as a whole."

"Thank you, sir," Steve replied earnestly.

Phillips glanced around the room seeing the others watching them. _Good. They'll see proper discipline. _"You're heading out for your next mission, Rogers. Get to Stark's lab. Pick up your costume and shield. Then get over to Buckingham Palace ASAP."

"_Buckingham Palace?_" Steve gasped. "That would mean the English king?"

"Yeah it would. Nice going, Rogers. Just don't expect me to kiss you or anything," Phillips noted. "Dismissed."

Steve turned before allowing himself a smirk at Phillips' little joke. As he headed for the door, he saw Peggy waiting for him there. "Going my way, Agent Carter?"

"Have to make sure you _get your ride_, Captain after all," Peggy replied almost playfully without missing a beat. "Come on." She headed out the door.

Accepting an award of thanks and duty with the beautiful agent at his side? Steve wondered what the world was coming to…..

[Stark's Lab—five minutes later]

"Wonder what Howard did to my suit?" Steve wondered.

"More than likely, he had to inspect it and your shield, Captain. You do need your equipment and wits on these missions," Peggy theorized. She walked into the area. "Mr. Stark?"

"Yeah, Agent Carter?" Stark turned to find the duo watching him from the entrance. "You can come in. I was expecting you both. Don't worry. Got everything as good as new!"

"Good as new?" Steve wondered. He did have something to say but he was dreading what the inventor was going to do to his suit.

"Yes. Certainly you didn't think I was going to paint it pink or something?" Stark arched a sarcastic eyebrow at his own response. "You're getting your big day with the brass, Rogers. You deserve to look the part."

"Thanks to you. You pulled me out of that ice box. If you didn't, I'd still be sleeping down there," Steve expressed.

"News flash, Rogers. I don't give up on my friends. Neither did Agent Carter for _other reasons_," Stark informed him. He pointed at the table. "Got your stuff laid out here. Had to take a few burn marks and scuffs out. Otherwise you did a great job, Chief. Shield needed a few of the scuffs from the tessaract energy rubbed off and a new paint job."

Steve took a deep breath and held up the chain mail. His eyes inspected every link in what it some ways was his closest companion…. He rubbed the shield and saw it reflect the lamplight. "You do great work. Never would've known about the icebox."

"Nice to get a compliment. What do you think, Carter?" Stark supposed.

"You do good work, Mr. Stark. Let's leave it at that," she assessed flatly. "Perhaps you might collect your things, Captain? We do not wish to keep our superiors waiting."

Steve nodded. "You have something I can carry this in?"

Stark rolled his eyes and held up a duffel bag. "As always, I have your back, Pal." He handed the bag to Steve. "By the way, I have to thank you too."

"Oh? For what?" Steve asked in confusion.

"Maria transferred to the base hospital here in London. If it wasn't for your situation, we never would've met," Stark informed them. "Guess we both got something?"

"We help each other. We are on the same team," Peggy jumped in as Steve packed his gear into the bag. When he picked up the shield, she added, "If you're ready, Captain, we should go."

"I'll want to see that medal when you get back," Stark told them.

"You will. Thanks!" Steve exclaimed again before they left.

_Good luck, my friend! You deserve it! _Stark smiled to himself. He was glad that the whole quest paid off. He knew Steve and Peggy fit well together. He hoped that the sparks would continue between his favorite nurse and himself. _Guess I find out at dinner tonight! _

And, as all was right with the world, he went back to work on his latest project…..


	10. Ceremony of Inspiration

Chapter 10 [Twenty-five minutes later—Buckingham Palace]

A crowd of dignitaries and officials gathered in the main courtyard beneath the king's speaking dais. Varied press corps scrambled for a view of the revived hero. Others wanted to hear his acceptance speech. All wanted to report on the Captain for their papers back home and the international propaganda effort.

Knowing that the Nazis would want a shot at a gathering of this nature, the site had been locked down. Soldiers checked credentials. Others stood watch on rooftops surrounding the palace. Still more stood under the podium and constantly inspected the crowd for trouble.

Nothing was going to happen if they had anything to say about it….

Sitting in the second row, Senator Brandt checked his watch for the third time. Among others, he'd been elated at Steve's rescue from the icy grave. He'd visited his favorite soldier/propaganda piece in the hospital of course. Naturally he made a few calls to help get his man honored in this way.

Of course the question at the moment was would the Captain show up? He'd stiffed the brass before at a previous event. It was also known that he didn't care for such individual accolades. It was also known that he'd try to sneak off to another briefing or a mission rather than accept an award.

Brandt, while admiring that trait, knew that snubbing George VI wasn't in the interests of American diplomacy. Hence he'd made sure that Phillips and Agent Carter knew that and would get the Captain to where he was supposed to be.

An aide hustled over. He bent over and whispered, "They just arrived."

Brandt nodded in relief and offered a smile. This time, at least, all was in readiness…..

[Bathroom—Fifty yards away from the dais]

Steve looked anxiously in the mirror and inspected himself. After two months without it, the costume still felt right on his body—almost like a second skin. He admittedly admired Stark's clean up efforts on it and the shield. "Looks good but am I good enough for a king? I just did my job." He sighed and ran his hand through his blond locks.

Pain pounded at his temples. Sweat dampened his palms. Butterflies banged against the inside of his stomach.

He hated the spectacle. He just wanted to grab Peggy and head back to the front…

To his mission….

To get the war over that much sooner….

_What the Hell was he doing there anyway?_

_Wish they'd just focus on kicking the Nazis back to Berlin and be done with it! _Steve shook his head. He knew the Brass wanted their props. Even as he was being honored, he knew it was their show for their pride. _Just remember you're accepting this for every GI out there, Steve. Suck it up. Remember Bucky. This is for him. This is for the Commandos. Think of all the guys who've died for their countries. _He set his jaw and donned his helmet. Then he slid his hand and arm through the shield's straps.

At that moment, Peggy knocked and called, "It's time, Captain! Are you ready?"

_Here we go! _"Right. Thanks," he replied. He glanced once more in the mirror. "Showtime." He strode toward the door and pulled it open. "All set?"

"That's my question for you, Captain. It will be all right." She watched him expectantly. "You do look handsome." She pecked him quickly on the lips before stepping back into her usual role. "Just hold the line."

"Have to. It's for duty. Come on," he agreed as they headed for the dais.

_Just hang in there, Steve. It'll be all right! _She mused to herself as their footsteps echoed against the hard tile below…..

[Ten minutes later]

The crowd shivered in the brisk air and chill wind as they waited for the speakers to assemble on the balcony above. They definitely wished for some speeding up of the process…

…not to mention sticking it to Hitler and his Goosesteppers all the quicker….

They cheered when the first of the dignitaries, a gaunt man with snow white hair and bundled in a thick grey coat, stepped to the podium. "BRING ON CAPTAIN AMERICA! WE WANT TO SEE HIM!"

"Calm yourselves! Calm yourselves, Chaps! Thank you very much!" George Stenhouse cleared his throat. He'd given many a heartfelt speech in the Houses of Parliament for the previous half century. He'd dealt with those things in good times and bad….

…certainly for this occasion, he could do a lot too….

Stenhouse glanced toward his monarch and offered a bow of his head. "Before we press on, may I present His Majesty, the Ruling Monarch of the United Kingdom and British Empire, George VI? Please rise and bow."

As one, everyone below and on the balcony rose. The Brits bowed before their ruler. The others offered a tacit head nod in respect.

George VI surveyed the crowd. His eyes surveyed them firmly. His brow arched in regal strength and forbearance against the elements. Even if they were all cold and wanted indoors, they'd act with dignity and offer the world a show of the British Stiff Upper Lip. "Welcome. I appreciate you appearing before me on this day of singular importance! We have all given much to Duty! We should all be proud as we bear our scars! We remember as well those who have fallen before our enemy's guns. Those men and women faced the Greatest Sacrifice with distinction and honor. We remember you all today!"

The crowd cheered their sovereign's words loudly. Commoner and noble. Baron and pauper. Both stood hand in hand to cheer their heroes.

_Bucky, you heard him! _Cap glanced toward the sky. _Same with you, Mom and Dad!_

The king allowed the group their thirty seconds before resuming, "One such gallant knight pursued his duty without regard to himself. Time and time again, the man who we honor today had plunged head first into battle. He only thinks, I'm told, of others. Just six months ago, he prevented a holocaust across the Pond in his native land. He defeated the Red Skull and Hydra without regard for his own welfare. He did it for Duty. It is with great pride that I ask him to stand and be recognized. Captain America! I await you!"

After giving Peggy's hand a quick squeeze, Cap strode anxiously toward the host monarch. "Your Majesty. Thank you." He offered a respectful bow to the older man. "I only seek to do my duty for you and the other Allies. I seek to make my country proud."

"And you do that every day, Captain. Go forth in battle and be proud. Serve us well as always. I thank you for your sacrifice to down the Valkyrie before she could strike a crippling blow against us. While you are not a British citizen, it is my privilege to award you our Defence medal for your airborne effort. Speaking on behalf of your President Roosevelt and myself, you have the thanks of a grateful people," George continued solemnly. "I would knight you but your country forbids it. Unfortunate indeed because it would be a richly earned honor. King Arthur himself would wish for such knights as you, Captain. Thank you. You may rise."

The crowd broke into applause.

"You hear them, Captain?" George could see the hesitation in Cap's blue eyes. "You should give yourself some credit before charging back in. Meantime I have something for you." He accepted a blue velvet case from Stenhouse. He opened it to reveal an ornate medal on a fine silk ribbon. "You are the first non-British citizen to receive our Defence Award. May you wear it with distinction." He raised it in the air to let the throng see the prize. "Please kneel again, Captain."

Peggy's eyes glistened in spite of herself. Her heart brimmed over with pride for her beloved. How far he'd come since that boot camp experience. Yet she'd seen that special spark then…and so had Erskine. Now she watched as her monarch recognized that special quality as well.

George hung the award around the recipient's neck and stepped back. "It suits you well, Captain. I believe your Senator Brandt has something for you as well." He turned to the American senator. "Please make your presentation."

"Thank you, Your Highness," Brandt expressed as he strode forward to the microphone. "Everyone, thank you for coming. We honor one of our greatest assets…our greatest hero…."

Steve squirmed with embarrassment at that comment. _I'm not the greatest! Will he please stop?_

"Just last fall, he prevented a Hydra death plan from striking out at America's greatest cities. We might have been dealt a crippling blow. Fortunately Captain America prevented that from happening. We nearly lost him to the Arctic ice. Thanks in part to Howard Stark's ingenuity and our combined Allied resources, we got the Captain back. As the king has said, Captain Rogers, you have the thanks of many people today and our gratitude. President Roosevelt has personally invited you to the White House when the war is over and our duty done," Brandt continued. He accepted a brown leather case from his assistant before snapping it open to reveal a glistening silver medal on a red, white and blue ribbon. "With President Roosevelt's deepest gratitude and on behalf of him, Congress and a grateful nation, I present you with the Congressional Medal of Honor for your valiant pursuit of duty and honor. May your service bring a faster end to the conflict ahead."

"God willing," Steve muttered to himself. He stood and stepped forward. "I accept this on behalf of my fellow GIs and allied troops everywhere. May we all serve so."

"I couldn't have said it better, Captain. May I?" Brandt hung the award around Cap's neck so that its medal shone next to its British counterpart in the overcast light. "Congratulations!"

The two men shook hands as the camera flash bulbs strobed the exchange into the history books. Their accord sealed the past event as one of duty and as an example to others following later.

For Steve, that was all one could hope for. The awards may have chafed him but he knew that others would be inspired in such ways….And that is what he could hope for….

Hope for indeed…..


	11. Happy Anniversary

Conclusion [Four Years Later]

[Brooklyn—Rogers' Flat]

[A/N: For those of you who like me wished this could've happened, we're about to get it! J]

The sun shone down warmly on that summer day. As it was Sunday, people took a respite from their usual routine to worship and smell the roses so to speak. Birds nestled in Central Park's trees in midtown Manhattan.

War had been put off for a few more years at least. The Korean peninsula and Eastern Europe, future flashpoints to be sure, still smoldered. The Soviets and Chinese still consolidated their territories away from American eyes.

But for one couple, they'd earned a spot of normalcy.

And so it went….

Steve straightened his tie and combed his hair carefully. He inspected himself in the mirror making sure that nary a ripple in his appearance would offend the eye. For several minutes he eyed his reflection anxiously. Then he took a deep breath and nodded. "You'll do, Rogers."

"I should say so, Captain."

He smiled and turned to see the former Agent Carter watching him intently from their bedroom door. "Just want to be perfect for you, the Stallones and Starks, Peggy."

She chuckled with a bit of wry humor as she strode across the room. To her, he fretted too much about such things but that's what made Steve what he was as far as she was concerned. "It's going to be all right. It's a picnic for Heaven's sake."

"They're family, Peggy. Besides you're you too." He gazed into her dark eyes and felt himself floating as if on a warm breeze. His heart slowed its nervous dance choosing a ballroom rhythm rather than the rap/jazz mix previously in its system.

She smoothed her burgundy blouse and dark skirt. "And you're you. I'll take you as you are. I've done so before God, remember?" She let her hand wander in front of his eyes.

On its ring finger, a diamond's sparkle in its golden setting assured him yet again that things were well in hand.

"I don't want to take anything for granted, Peggy," he admitted.

"You never do, Captain." Her lips brushed his for a brief second. Her eyes returned his glare with their usual intense purpose. "That's why I married you." She arched an almost mischievous eyebrow. "Happy Anniversary."

"Happy Anniversary," he chorused with all of his heart. He grinned with affection….It had been two years…the two most wonderful years of his life….The time since the Japanese surrendered in the Pacific. The time since she'd chosen to return with him stateside….

…the time since they'd stood in the old church down the street and joined their paths together forever….

"You are my present every day, Peggy," he assured her letting his eyes shine into hers.

"And you are mine." She released her embrace and walked across the room. Her thoughts had centered much of that week as to when to give him her gift. "I know we agreed to wait until we came back to exchange gifts."

"Yeah so?" He could tell that something had been on her mind for much of that week. In the evenings following his shifts at Emilia's, she'd confined herself to small talk rather than the usual Peggy-esque straight-ahead truth. "So what is it?"

"What's what? Steve, I have no idea of what you're talking about," she hedged.

He saw it at that moment. He knew when the slight wrinkle in the corner of her eye. He clearly recognized the slight shuffling of her feet; the hesitation in that step. "There's been something on your mind for a couple of days now. Is it something I did?"

"Captain, please! If you did anything, I'd tell you," she assured him.

"Then what's going on? Is everything okay?" he wondered.

She sighed and rolled her eyes. She leaned against the bedroom wall and glared at the ceiling. "You were always too perceptive for your own good." She managed a smile. "I may have to give you your gift early."

"A gift isn't that big of a deal, Peggy. We can deal with anything," he asserted with all of his heart.

"Isn't it?" She smirked at him.

"Isn't what? I…." He saw the nervous energy shift to a happy relaxation in her eyes. And somehow at that moment, he knew…

_He knew….._

His jaw dropped.

"You're pregnant, aren't you?" he gasped.

She smiled at him. "Dr. Henderson confirmed it last Wednesday. Two months along now. I wanted to wait until today to tell you."

His heart skipped a beat to a happy tune. He felt as if he was truly lighter than air. He embraced her once again. "A baby! Oh, Peggy! I can't believe it!"

"We're going to be a family. Enough of us being orphans. We're going to give this child a home to be remembered," she vowed. "You belong to us, Steve Rogers. Both of us." She rubbed her belly in emphasis.

"And I promise to be the best for you both," he promised her. "Always." He sealed that concord with a tender kiss of his own onto her lips.

"I know," she affirmed; the usual set glance now returned to her eyes. She took his hand and squeezed it. "Shall we give them the news?"

"Lead on," he agreed.

She urged him out of the bedroom and out their door. With a turn of the key, she locked their space. Then they headed for the stairs and their afternoon activities.

[Brooklyn Bridge Park—an hour later]

As with most post-service affairs of that nature, the picnic had the best of everything. Sublime Italian fare graced the Stallones' careworn checkerboard cloth. A spirited stickball game lightened things up more. The company made it more so.

Howard Stark leaned back while relaxing. For once, even the energetic inventor could let his hair down a bit. Since coming stateside with Maria, he'd negotiated several promising government grants with the Defense Department. His new Number Two, Obediah Stane, ran everything smoothly.

Maria made sure he had _some _home life at least. She wouldn't allow her husband to retreat into a Gatsby-esque mental retreat from the world in their Long Island estate. Since their 'I-Dos', she'd insured that he had the best of everything. Now she sat next to him while leaning her head on his shoulder. "This is the life, _Corazon_."

"Definitely." He saluted her deftly with his glass of red wine and savored its vintage. More than the money he'd amassed and the possessions acquired, he treasured this paradise that Steve and Peggy had introduced them to. He wanted to improve the lot of these people. More so, he wanted to give his raven haired muse the best of everything. "We earned this through our sacrifices."

"God gives what he will," Maria agreed.

"Indeed he does," Peggy agreed while joining them. "Forgive me for intruding. Sure you don't want any fondue?"

Howard chuckled in spite of himself. "It's the middle of the afternoon not a night break from a war zone, Peggy." He shrugged at his wife who didn't get the gist.

"The mission where we met the Commandos, Maria. Howard offered to do some late night fondue. I had my mind on someone else," the former agent clarified while shooting Steve a look for emphasis.

"And glad you did," Maria agreed with a pleasant smile. "Especially given your news and my happiness with my inventor." Seeing everyone congregating around the blanket, she presumed, "It is time to eat, no? Come."

"Never deny good food or the wife for that matter. Take that down," he conceded willingly.

Peggy rolled her eyes at his little joke. Still, given the festivities, she could allow him his reference to their days at High Command and their missions….

…such as the one where he'd pulled her dreams out of the deep freeze _literally_….

"There you are," Louisa declared. She and Antonio spread their wares across the checkerboard. Almost like checkers, a different bowl had some exquisite delicacy. Her eyes shone warmly at the approaching trio. "The best for you all." She opened the top on a rather large casserole dish to reveal a richly crafted lasagna.

"Such art." Maria's mouth watered at the aroma and the promised taste of the dish in front of them. "_Gracias, Señora Stallone_."

"We share food and love, Maria. It's the way, no?" Louisa replied with a hearty smile. "Mama and I watch for Steven. I can watch for you all and the new baby." Her eyes shone on Peggy. "You are _familia_."

The promise of generations watching out for each other lightened the hearts of those concerned. "You give Steven gift of family, Peggy. And you, Howard and Maria, brought him back to us." Louisa looked at each one in turn. "Thank you for search and care. Now _manga_!"

Steve smiled as his wife and their friends were being 'reaffirmed' by the Italian matriarch into their family by choice. He couldn't wait to add a cousin or two to the menagerie rummaging around them. Meantime he set the cannolis and cake down that he'd brought to Emilia's on the previous day. He turned to his boss. "This is the life, isn't it?"

"Now you see why Papa told you to believe, Steve?" Antonio reminded him. "_Si. _This is life at its finest. We work for each other. We help each other. We _stand _by each other. Formula not make you who you are. You always have been that." He pointed at the Captain's heart. "Never forget."

For a brief second, Steve could see Erskine's ghost watching them with a gentle smile. _I never forgot. I never will….. _Then he shrugged. "I never will, Antonio. Never."

"Not that I'll let you," Peggy insisted as the others joined them.

"Can't have that," Maria chimed in. "For now, _Capitan_, the war is over. _Es un tiempo para familia._"

"For family." Steve sighed with contentment. He knew the former nurse was right. The war was over for the present; its appetite temporarily satiated for that day at least. For the present, he could enjoy the embrace of family, the pleasures of life and the promise of what was to come…

…especially when it came at the side of his beloved and their growing bundle of joy….

And for the Captain, that's all that mattered. True there was still duty but now it was to more than just country. It was to life and love as well.

No longer just trapped in the ice…Now free to serve all…

More than that. To be free to soar and roam…

An eventuality his friends had brought about….

An eventuality that they could enjoy….

And that was something to be treasured….

THE END


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